All opinions expressed are mine, and in no way reflect those of my mother, father, brothers, wife, son, or my employer. On the other hand, most everything I know, and think and feel, comes from those relationships and I'll refer to them often--extending either credit or blame.

Saturday, August 12, 2017

I'm sure there are lots of guys out there that had similar passion for baseball when they were kids. It's funny that I have so few vivid memories from when I was 8 or 10 or 12 years old--but I can remember things about baseball as though they happened yesterday. I remember trying out for 'majors' with Coach Bourque watching. We played Little League (or Dixie League--a long, sad story) on the fields in the Town Site, near the tennis courts and the Community House. I don't remember the kid's name I was playing catch with--he had bright red hair as I recall. Coach Bourque walked up and down watching us catch and throw--and I made 'Majors.' I remember a big kid named Mike throwing to try to catch me stealing second --instead hit me in the face. It hurt but I got over it--it was maybe my only steal. Years later, Coach Cormier asked me not to try to steal (I was too slow, though he didn't come right out and say it). I remember playing 'under the lights' in Belle Chasse for the first time ever--we didn't have lights. Our infield at the PSHS was all dirt, and I can remember the dust and the smell when it was really hot and dry. I remember my first home run in high school, at a park somewhere in Chalmette--I had grounded out the AB before and coach Cormier suggested I take off my spikes and put on my "tennis" shoes--my black Converse All Stars, because I was dragging my front foot, not getting a good stride--and, it worked. I smashed the first pitch over the left field fence--with a runner on first. I don't remember my slow trot around the bases, but I can see the ball fly over the left-fielder's head, like it was yesterday. Few memories from boyhood are as rich and satisfying.

I remember Kenny Sonnier hitting a home run at Mel Ott Park in Gretna--with major league scouts in the stands (we heard). The fence was short, just over 300 ft., but it was 50 ft. high. Kenny hit it over the fence, across the street, into the 2nd floor of the building on the other side. I was standing at the end of the dugout and I can see the ball, still rising as it cleared that chain link fence, and crashed into the brick wall. Nobody cheered at first--they couldn't believe it, but then suddenly we realized what had happened and I think even the other team's fans cheered. We heard later that Kenny was the first and only high school player to every hit a ball over that right field fence.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Health care is not a right, but (that’s a
loud, emphatic BUT), we have the
resources, as a nation, to make certain that no one suffers or dies from lack
of access to quality medical care.We
have the resources to guarantee that no one who acts in good faith will have to
choose between food/rent and seeing a doctor.We have the resources to provide the best pre-natal care to every expectant
mother.We have the resources to help
our aging population live a quality life, maintain independence and dignity.We have the resources to make access to health care a
non-issue for all Americans.

So, what
are we waiting for?One word:
PROFIT---health care is a "for-profit" business. If we’re too kind, too generous with our existing resources, there’s
not enough profit in health care, hospitals, or insurance companies for wealthy
investors to make adequate ROI.And, our
new government doesn’t have the courage or strength of character to legislate
health care over profits (because many of them depend on contributions from big
investors—or, they are big investors themselves).I
know, beyond any doubt, there are thousands upon thousands of people in the
country who do not have health insurance because they can’t afford it, or
perhaps in a few rare cases, prefer not to buy health care.Many work full time for small companies that
don’t offer group coverage, or they don’t work at all.So, when they do need care, often times they
wind up at emergency rooms, knowing that they won’t be turned away (look up
EMTLA).Maybe Medicaid will pay, or the
hospital will try to collect—or will eventually write it off.In any event, I, we, wind up paying for it—and
I’m OK with that.I may need help
myself, someday, and trust there are others who feel as I do, that we, as
Americans, have an obligation to help when we can.Again, this is not a partisan opinion, it’s
simply my opinion of what’s right and just—and American.

Saturday, June 3, 2017

I've talked before about where I stand along the political ideology spectrum. I have very close relationships with my brothers, but we have widely disparate political views. I’m the oldest of four sons, Brother #4, the youngest, is a conservative Republican (married to a conservative Republican), Brother #2 is a very liberal Democrat. I am somewhere in between, as is my smart, beautiful wife. Sadly, we lost Brother #3 many years ago, but I'm confident he'd be in the middle with me; but, I don't stay long in any one spot. I listen and learn--and then, where and when it makes sense, I change my mind—it’s the grownup, reasoned thing to do. I like to say that I lean neither left nor right, rather I stand upright in favor of truth, reason, and logic (just to give my brothers a hard time). In spite of my malleability I do have some deeply entrenched biases (and I’m perfectly aware of how they influence my opinions), and I’ve tried to stay as objective as possible over my long life time. For the sake of clarity (mine and my readers), I'll follow this with a series of posts offering my perhaps unique views on some of the controversial topics--those creating the divide, that vast chasm between right and left.

I don't know what my political affiliation is. I'm neither Republican, nor Democrat; I don't belong to the Tea Party, the Libertarian Party or any kind of Green Party--I have very little in common with any of them. I'm neither conservative nor liberal. What I do know for sure is that I love my country--I'm a patriot; and, as a patriot I have certain firm beliefs about my patriotic responsibilities. For example, I enlisted in the military and served over 10 years, first in the Air Force then the Air National Guard. During that time our country was at war, a controversial war, a war based on....what? The Domino Theory they called it. It wasn't a direct threat to our home or our freedom; but, the theory was that if we did not stop communism in SE Asia, free nations around the Pacific would fall like dominoes--until the scourge was coming ashore here in America. Well, we didn't stop communism in Vietnam--and it spread all the way to Laos---and then stopped. We never did have to fight any communists in Baton Rouge or Port Sulphur. So, the Commanders-in-Chief who led us during the Vietnam conflict, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon (2 Republicans, 2 Democrats), were they liars or traitors, or just mistaken? Even today, nearly 40 years later, in spite of the fact that 58,000 young men (mostly) died (including two good friends), I would never dream of calling any of my Presidents liars or traitors. In fact I truly believe that anyone who does is a coward and a traitor. You may think that's harsh, but after careful consideration over a lifetime--it's my opinion and I know it's right (even righteous, to borrow a thought from Dan Madison). All that is accomplished by the name calling is to widen the divide between groups of would-be, wanna-be patriots. Real patriotism is deeper than that. The problems our nation faces (not as bad as the conservatives suggest--not as good as the liberals want you to think) require a concerted effort by all of us, working together. But, that's not going to happen because neither side can see beyond their narrow little view and their notion that they can prove they're right by proving the other side is wrong. Wrong.

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Case Study,
Dark Shadows: We’ve talked about cleanliness, now let’s
discuss “safe.” For several years, while
in the gasoline/convenience store business, I tried to work one shift per month
in each of my 10 or 12 stores. Often it
was a mid-shift, 2PM to 10PM, occasionally a third shift, and it was often an
adventure. One night, on a third shift,
at a store in Petaluma, California, I think it was around 3:00AM, a women
rushed into the store, but paused as soon as the door closed behind her. I said, “Good morning, can I help you find
something?”

She stuttered, sounding as though she was out of
breath, “F ffflavored coffee creamer.”

I pointed to the dairy doors, “We have Irish Cream and
French Vanilla, quart size.”

She grabbed one, came up to the register, and as I
handed her the change from her 20-dollar bill, she asked, in a timid, shaky
voice, “Would you mind watching for me to get to my car?”

I said, “Sure, come on, I’ll walk you out.” I had no idea, until that moment, how
un-safe, un-inviting our store was in the middle of the night. The parking area was, per the Fire Marshall’s
direction, away from the front door and the surrounding fire-lane, and by
default the closest spots were in a rather dimly lit part of the lot. It was a combination of things, first the
store windows on that side of the building were blocked so no light was shining
out, the lot lights were shrouded in fog (like so many other nights), so when I
first stepped out I couldn’t see the woman’s car. I walked her over and waited for her to start
the car and pull away. It was painfully obvious that she had been truly afraid
to walk to and from her car. The next
day, we moved two parking spots closer to the door and installed flood lights
on the side of the building to light up all of the parking spots.

Later, I spoke to the manager and the other
night-shift employees and was disappointed to hear that they’d had several
comments about how dark the lot was—so, here’s the lesson for the entrepreneur: know your facility, inside out, in daylight
and dark, in fair weather and foul. Make
it safe and inviting.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

When I was a boy I had this talk with my Dad and my Grandpa about what I wanted to be when I grew up. Grandpa was in favor of police officer or firefighter because they were noble professions—they were people who put the welfare, the safety, and the security of others above their own. Daddy said soldier, sailor, or marine were good, too, for the same reasons. The conversation continued and included lawyer, judge, and Congressman. Elmo and Grandpa agreed that “those were noble professions.” For most of my life I’ve believed that the vast majority of public servants were noble, honorable, courageous people of character. I’ve believed that people who chose that path, did so because they had a desire to serve, a sense of altruism, a righteous motive to do good for others. I’m not sure any of that is any longer true. To my friends in Louisiana---please don’t be offended, I know there are still honorable men and women, serving the public good rather than serving self, but the former are in such a minority that I worry, “What chance do we have?”

About Me

I have grey hair, wrinkles, and look every bit my age. I have a young son who has made me expert on all things Disney, Nickelodeon, and now vampires, post-apocalypse world, Family Guy, etc. I have a wonderful, beautiful wife, who nags me incessantly, but without whom I would be totally without direction or purpose. And, that's who I am--a husband and a father. I also write, mostly for my own entertainment and edification. I've recently published two novels, in the Dan Madison and Mike Madison Adventure Series. Both are available in paperback and eBook versions.